


Aftermath

by hannapalooza



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Sex, Fighting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:04:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannapalooza/pseuds/hannapalooza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene turns his back on the scene in front of him, Harry gasping quietly on the floor, a pool of dark blood spreading out underneath him, Glen just staring and Sam looking on with a mixture of shock and pride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gene turns his back on the scene in front of him, Harry gasping quietly on the floor, a pool of dark blood spreading out underneath him, Glen just staring and Sam looking on with a mixture of shock and pride. His only thought is to get out of there, and he almost runs down the stairs and into the car park, hearing the clatter of Sam’s feet following him. He stalks away into a darkened corner, wishing desperately to be left alone; he doesn’t want Sam to see him like this, scared and shivering like a little kid. He tries to light a cigarette but his hand is shaking too much, and he has to nod gratefully when Sam takes it from him and lights it, inhaling deeply before handing it back.

 

Gene grabs the cigarette, taking a long drag before sagging against the wall, staring at his feet, unable to look at Sam. And Sam steps forward and gently places two fingers under Gene’s chin, raising his head, not saying a word. Gene stiffens under Sam’s gaze, attempts to straighten his shoulders and crack a smile, desperate to be strong, but he falters when he sees that Sam is just looking at him without judgement, is just there, and for the first time in a long time Gene lets himself be vulnerable in front of someone, lets his hand shake and his head fall back against the wall.

 

Sam holds his gaze as he reaches out a tentative hand and places it on Gene’s shoulder, squeezing a moment before sliding it across to the nape of his neck. Gene feels his fingers closing around the tendrils of hair as Sam steps into him and presses the side of his face against Gene’s neck. Gene closes his eyes and breathes deeply, angling his body to press against Sam, reassured by his strong silent presence. He drops his hand and lets his burnt out fag fall to the floor before grabbing onto Sam’s free hand and holding on tight, the only move he can bring himself to make.

 

He feels Sam twitch and squeeze his hand to stop it shaking, pushing harder on Gene’s neck to bring them flush against each other, and Gene can feel him trembling slightly as he whispers against his neck “I’d never do that to you. You hear me? I never fucking would…”

 

Gene doesn’t answer, he simply drops his head forward and sweeps his free arm around Sam’s waist, drawing him closer, almost crushing him. He can feel Sam so warm against him, feel his heartbeat and his breath across his neck, but he could hear the truth in what Sam said. He swallows hard; searching desperately for the right words to say back, but all he can manage is a choked off “Sam” whispered into his ear.

 

“Yeah I know.”

 

Gene breathes in, a long slow shuddering inhalation, gathering himself and his strength. He leans his head back and tilts Sam’s chin up to look him in the eye, trying to convey everything he feels in his stare because he can't trust himself to speak, and doesn't have the words anyway. He loosens his grip on Sam's waist, and lets himself just look. To just see this man standing with him, for him, in front and around him, giving him everything he ever needed and wanted. And the only way he can thank him is to lean in and kiss him, closed mouth, almost chaste.

 

Sam just kisses him back, stretching up to accommodate for the slight height difference, and Gene feels Sam becoming pliant in his arms, angling his head and letting Gene take whatever he wants, and he wants so much, he wants everything from this man, and his hand goes to the back of Sam's head, his fingers pressing almost painfully against Sam’s skull his tongue searching Sam's mouth, tasting and savouring, falling deeper and deeper and Sam underneath his hands giving himself up so readily, it's almost too much and he pulls away with a gasp. When Gene breaks away Sam takes a deep shuddering breath like a drowning man coming up for air, and remains still in Gene’s arms, staring up at him.

 

Gene lowers his gaze to the floor and relinquishes his grip on Sam, almost pushing him bodily away, his heart hammering in his chest. He stalls, he wants to run, far and fast and end up at the bottom of a bottle, because this, letting someone, anyone get this close to who he is, is dangerous. He tastes bile in the back of his throat as he stares steadfastly at his shoes, feels himself start to shake again as the adrenaline leaves his body. He is caught, ingrained behaviour patterns pushing him to leave, get out, run, but something deeper holds him there. At that moment he feels so helpless, so out of control, and he knows the only thing that can ground him, can bring him back is Sam

 

Sam falls back a step, watching Gene, concern growing on his face until his eyebrows practically knit together. Ignoring the forceful push he was given by Gene he steps forward again and tilts his head, pushing his mouth forcefully against Gene's, kissing him roughly. Their bodies together, Sam forces Gene back against the wall, keeping Gene flush between it and him while his hands slip under his arms, under Gene's suit to encircle him and grasp at the white fabric of his shirt, and tugging at it firmly.

 

Gene groans, long and low in the back of his throat as Sam manhandles him back against the wall and kisses him hard, and he tries to lose himself in the moment, the feel of Sam's hands on his body, pressing against him, warm and alive and so eager for him, and Gene finally understands what Sam's trying to tell him. He slides an arm around Sam's back, hurriedly untucking his shirt and sliding a palm up his spine, cradling Sam's head in his other hand, before breaking the kiss and forcing Sam against him, holding him tight. "Sam I..." He tails off.

 

Sam makes a soft broken noise of loss in the back of his throat as Gene breaks the kiss before blinking, dark-eyed at Gene. He leans in and brushes his mouth against Gene’s, breathing heavily, he purrs: “What..? You what, Gene?”

 

Gene swallows. He wants to say I want you, I need you, but the look in Sam's eyes make the words dry in his throat. His world has dwindled to the man standing in front of him, looking up at him with such hunger and need, those lips slightly parted, breath coming in short gasps. Gene leans in and kisses him again without thinking suddenly wanting everything Sam is offering. Sam kisses back, this time open-mouthed, and pushes his hips forward, grinding against Gene as his fingers tighten around the crisp shirt, pulling at the fabric again but this time harder, more urgently. He tugs and tugs moaning Gene’s name.

 

The feel of Sam's erection pressing against his thigh makes Gene groan, his hips instinctively bucking forwards. His hand slips to Sam's arse, groping him through his trousers, delighting in the sound of his name drawn from Sam's mouth as he moves his lips to Sam's throat, biting gently at the smooth skin exposed by the collar of his shirt. He can feel Sam trying to undress him, fingers scrabbling at the smooth cotton of his shirt, but his own hand is too busy angling Sam's head back to expose his tempting throat to Gene's mouth

 

His lips parted, Sam's breathing comes out sharp, too sharp as Gene's fingers hold his jaw firmly as Gene's mouth maps his neck, teeth scraping every so often against his skin. His dark lashes flutter as he writhes against Gene, hips pressed hard against him. Gene is drowning, luxuriating in the taste of Sam's skin against his tongue, the feel of his hot lithe body against him, drawing his arousal up and up until he starts to ache, every nerve in his body taut and vibrating. The sound of a siren and squealing tyres force their way into his consciousness and he pulls away from Sam with a gasp, the realisation of where they are standing suddenly dousing his body in ice cold fear.

 

"Not here" Gene states, trying to sound assertive and in control, but his voice quavering. Sam growls, his hands still caught in Gene's shirt and pushes him back against the wall.

 

“Yes here.” He rumbles, forcing his mouth back onto Gene's. With a growl Gene allows himself one more kiss, before pushing Sam away hard, watching him stumble back.

 

"Don't be a pillock Sam; we've pushed our luck as it is." He runs his hands clinically down his body, smoothing his shirt and righting his tie before reaching for a cigarette. He flicks his eyes up and down Sam: shirt untucked, hair mussed and damp with sweat, erection prominently tenting his tight trousers and takes a long drag on his cigarette

 

"For God’s sake Sam tidy yourself up, don't make this any harder than it already is" he says shakily. Sam shivers, making a soft noise in his throat as he watches Gene run a hand down his body. He hastily runs his tongue across his bottom lip.

 

“You tidy me up” he growls without thinking. Another screech of tyres as the ambulance pulls up in one of the spaces and Gene sees some recognition flicker in his dark eyes. He hurriedly begins to flatten his hair down and tuck his shirt back in. The ambulance men are quick on their feet and he only has time to slouch against the wall behind Gene, pulling his jacket down to hide his erection and stuffing his hands in his pockets. As the two men ask Gene about the emergency, Sam just turns his head away, and Gene can hear his uneven breathing, and knows if he looks Sam’s eyes will be dark, his face flushed.

.

Gene pulls his coat around himself, hauls himself bodily away from the wall and starts barking orders at the ambulance men. He doesn't dare look back at Sam leaning behind him, instead he glares and scowls, taking short drags on his cigarette as he hurries the men up the steps and into the station. He turns at the top, locking eyes with Sam and shouts down at him

 

"Wait there Tyler I'm not finished with you yet" before swiftly following the ambulance men into the building, but not before seeing Sam raise his eyebrows and smirk - in possibly the dirtiest way Gene has ever seen a person smirk. Gene curls his fingers into a fist and digs his nails into his palms -hard- to try to bring himself under control as he enters the police station and watches the ambulance men jogging up the stairs to CID. He sets his face into a frown and gets into the lift, lighting another cigarette, running his tongue across his lips and tasting Sam. Shaking his head when the lift reaches CID he steps out with a swagger, and leans uncaringly against the wall as they manhandle Harry onto a stretcher. He can't bear to look at Harry, this man; his mentor, his idol, more of a father to him than his own, brought so low, and he feels a deep sense of disgust and loss sweep through him. He suddenly wishes he hadn't left Sam in the car park.

 

The whole incident passes in silence, Harry not looking at Gene either, the ambulance men doing their duty and bundling him up, and starting back down the stairs. Gene is left alone, staring at the blood spattered up the wall where Harry fell; sure to stain and serve as a constant reminder of what had occurred that night. Gene hears the sound of someone making their way up the stairs, and in walks Sam, looking about as messy as when Gene had left him, his hair mussed where he’d ran his fingers through it. Gene clears his throat and drops his fag to the floor, casting a quick glance to either side to make sure there was no one else in the corridor. He steps up to Sam and rights his jacket, smoothing it across his shoulders, making it sit right with efficient movements before cupping Sam's face gently and looking down at him, trying to just look at him, but unable to resist turning back to the bloodstain on the wall, staring down at it and beginning to shiver again. Sam frowns, head tilting a little to look at the bloodstain before raising a hand and turning Gene's face away and back, holding him there. He blinks slowly, looking seriously up at him,

 

''M not gonna have to live through watching your heart break every time you walk in here, am I?” He asks quietly, his other hand finding Gene's and gripping it tight. Gene's gaze slides away from Sam's to the bloodstain once more, before being dragged inexorably back to Sam's eyes, looking at him with serious concern. With a grimace he straightens up, squaring his shoulders and tugging his coat back around himself like a shield before bending his head to Sam's ear. He stalls, willing himself to say the words and squeezes Sam's hand hard before whispering

 

"Not if you're here beside me Sammy."

 

Sam shivers and, tilting his head again and standing on tiptoe, brings his mouth against Gene's temple and kisses him. Slowly he moves back against him, mouth trailing across Gene's cheekbone and down to his mouth before kissing him quickly. He smirks and looks at Gene, breathing lightly,

 

“I'm always here you silly twat. If I weren't I'd still be outside.” Lazily he slides his free arm over Gene's shoulder, hand sliding down the back of his shirt collar and pressing into his spine. Gene's eyes widen to a glare as Sam smirks at him.

 

"Don't make me punch you for calling me a twat Tyler" he growls trying to assemble some threads of self control and strength, whilst helplessly leaning into the fingers caressing teasingly across his back. Gene twists away from Sam, a sudden reflexive movement and steps away, his face unreadable.

 

"I told you, not here" he mutters. Sam frowns, his hand slipping from under Gene’s shirt but still gripping onto his hand tightly,

 

“Then where?” His brow furrows and he looks up at Gene, as if searching for something

 

“Please Gene, don't give me this shit. I don't want your false bravado. I don't need it.” Sam squeezes his hand for a moment, before pulling him back against him. Gene pushes Sam away, a little too forcefully.

 

"This isn't false bravado Sam, this is self preservation. You know what we're doing is dangerous." He sighs heavily, and stares at nothing for a moment before coming to a decision

 

"Right. My place, fish and chips and a single malt. That suit you?" Sam blinks, frowning at being shoved away before shoving his hands in his pockets, looking the definition of sullen,

 

“Isn't the missus home?” Sam says spitefully, leaning against the wall and looking pointedly at Gene. Gene almost flinches at Sam's words, and has to stop himself from stepping up and landing a punch in Sam's gut. Suddenly he sags and tracks across the corridor to the other wall, putting deliberate distance between them, his face set and angry. He settles himself against the wall and drags a flask from his pocket, taking a determined swig and replacing it without offering Sam a sip. His voice is harsh, accusing, echoing across the empty space between them

 

"Fine Sam. What do you want? But don't be surprised if you're disappointed, because I've given you most all I can already." Sam growls, dark eyes set, and suddenly walks over to Gene in determined strides. He glares at him once before batting the hand holding the flask to the side and suddenly embracing Gene, his head against his neck. His voice is quiet, forced through clenched teeth,

 

“I want some fucking recognition, for a start. Harry's put you through some shit in his time, but I can tell Gene - you still just won't realise he's a bent fuck who's played you.” Sagging suddenly against Gene's chest he begins to kiss at his jaw, nibbling over the curve of his ear,

 

“He wants you to be the big, strong boy he pulled up by the bootstraps. I don't. I just want recognition, Gene, from you, not 'DCI Hunt'.” He takes a breath and leans against him heavily, resting his head on his shoulder.

 

“You haven't even said you love me yet. Did you know that?”

 

Gene stiffens as Sam approaches him and listens with a clenched jaw, before again pushing Sam away. Part of him still wants to defend Harry and his eyes flash in anger at Sam's presumption. He settles for a hard backhanded slap across Sam's face, watching as he reels backwards from the blow. Gene grabs him by the collar and draws him close

 

"Didn't you tell me you'd never try and play me Sam and then you pick now, this fucking time, with Harry's blood still wet on the floor to demand things of me?" Gene drops his hands from Sam’s collar, shakes his head sadly and turns away, heading for the stairs. Sam's hand is suddenly on his arm, pulling him back, tight around his wrist. The fury in Sam's eyes is clear

 

“Don't you dare insinuate I'd play you, Gene. Don't you dare tell me I'd pull a gun on you, manipulate you like that, because I couldn't. I love you too damn much. What do you want me to do, Gene? I'm here for you, I fucking love you, but I'm not wiping HIS blood off the damn floor. And neither are you.' He drags Gene back, pulls him round to look at him,

 

“What is it, really? What is it that's stopping you? Is it because I was right all along? Do you want to hate me because I knew this was coming?' He grabs hold of both Gene’s hands and throws him a look that speaks of agony,

 

“You'd forgive him in a heartbeat... But did he ever tell you he loved you?” Gene shakes Sam's hand off him

 

"Wouldn't pull a gun on me? You already did Sam or is that fact conveniently been forgotten? I’ve trusted him a lot longer than I've trusted you Tyler, and you acting like a fucking spoilt brat isn't helping." Gene glares at Sam

 

"Do you have any idea what it feels like to take down the man you've idolised since you were nineteen years old? To pull that trigger and put a bullet in him, but most of all to see what he’s become?" Gene steps back, sways a moment and sits heavily on the top step, turned away from Sam, his voice becoming quieter

 

"He never loved me Sam, is that what you want to hear? Will that make you happy? Because no matter what you say it's always about you isn't it? I will never forgive him for betraying me, but I can’t tell you I never loved him," Gene trails off and swipes a hand across his eyes.

 

Sam falters and frowns, moving to sit down beside Gene on the step, resting a hand on his leg,

 

“That... was different. I saw the look in his eyes, Gene, as well as you. He wanted to tear you apart, and when he thought he did he smiled.” Sam frowned, moving closer and resting his head on Gene's shoulder,

 

“Please Gene, you have to know, I'd never treat you like that, and...” Sam takes a moment to swallow and kiss Gene's cheek, “... it breaks my heart to see you like this.” Sam sighs and pulls away, watching his free hand clench tightly,

 

“I'll never be good enough, will I?”

 

Gene doesn't pull away this time, but he doesn't make any move to acknowledge Sam sitting beside him.

 

"It’s not about being good enough or not Sam. You know you're a better man than I'll ever be. And I try, I try so fucking hard for you Sammy, some days I barely recognise myself in the mirror. But you keep on pushing and wanting and needing and I tie myself into knots trying to please you because you deserve it." Gene glances briefly at Sam before dropping his eyes back to his feet.

 

"Today would never have happened if you weren't here Sam...And I don't blame you for that, but you have to at least let me bloody mourn what I've lost. That's all I ask." Sam frowns, and suddenly takes his hand from Gene's knee, resting his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair.

 

“Gene, I want you to mourn. I want you to be... Gene. My Gene. I just need to know, for God's sake. You stay the night but you're never there in the morning, then I walk into CID and it's like we're... Gene, do you know how bloody heartbreaking it was to see you be torn apart like that? I need to know, that's all. I need to know that I'm not just a weekly shag, because you're the only thing I've got.” Gene looks across at Sam and brings his hand up to Sam's face, gently tracing the faint red mark left from his slap earlier, before sadly shaking his head.

 

"I'm not good with words Sam, and I can't say what you need to hear, not tonight. Tonight all I can offer is me, and my bed, and I'll make you a bacon buttie in the morning" Gene drops his hand, hoping he has made himself understood but unable to say anything more. Sam flinches at the pressure of Gene's hand, feeling the bruise spreading across that side of his face. Before Gene can pull away though he grabs it, clutches it and holds it against his face.

 

“You said 'not tonight'. You didn’t said 'never'...” He bites his lip hard, glancing behind him at the stain in the corridor.

 

“I'll take your offer, only in the hope that you'll offer me what that prick was stupid enough to refuse afterward.” Sam leans close and kisses him chastely - like Gene had after Harry's betrayal, closed mouth, and it's almost solemn. Gene gets to his feet and pulls Sam up, pulling him into a clumsy embrace and muttering into his hair

 

"You'll be the death of me Sammy boy. Now my place, fish and chips and a single malt. Ok?"


	2. Chapter 2

Gene fumbles with his keys at the front door, jiggling the sticky lock that Margie had been on at him to fix for months. Finally it gives and with a shove the door opens. Gene steps into the house and straight into the lounge, heading for the whisky on the cabinet, assuming Sam will follow him in. He pours two large glasses and turns to offer one to Sam. Sam steps in and takes a good look around before staring back at Gene and taking the glass held out to him. Instead of drinking it however, he clutches at it tightly.

 

“Never expected Gene Hunt to go for something so domestic.” Gene watches as Sam’s gaze lands on the wedding photo perched precariously on the end of the mantle and then watches him swallow half the glass of whisky in one. Gene also looks around the immaculate room, almost as if seeing it for the first time.

 

"Well you know what women are like. They go in for all that poncy shit. Margie isn't any different I suppose." With a sniff Gene removes his coat and seemingly on autopilot hangs it up on the hook by the door, kicking off his shoes and placing them neatly underneath, before sinking into a battered out of place armchair and taking a long sip of his drink, watching Sam walking around his lounge with a small degree of discomfort. Sam crosses the room to sit in the closest seat to Gene; sinking into one side of the couch he continues to look around, as if trying to take everything in.

 

“You look as out of place here as I am, but more at home than you've ever been.” He says matter-of-factly and sips at the whisky, resting it on the arm of the couch. Gene looks across at Sam, once again startled by how well this man seems to know him. He's lived here for fifteen years, and although it’s his home, it’s definitely Margie's domain. Sam looks uncomfortable, perched stiffly on the edge of the couch as though he was meeting his girlfriend’s parents for the first time. Gene snorts to himself at the comparison and takes another look around the room. He notes that Margie has moved their wedding picture again. Time was it was centre stage on the mantle, pride of place, now it was balancing on the edge. He expects to feel guilty as he looks at it, but he can’t even muster that emotion. The truth is even though Sam is jittering about like he's had too much coffee, it feels right to have him here, not that he'd ever admit it.

 

Sam suddenly grasps his glass, downing the rest of it, and stands up purposefully. He crosses the short distance to Gene and stops in front of the chair, bending down, resting his hands on the arms. His eyes flutter closed as he leans forward and kisses him slowly. Gene reacts immediately, kissing Sam back hungrily, opening his mouth and leaning forward, one arm grabbing Sam around the waist and pulling him closer, the other gripping the back of Sam's head forcing their mouths together as he licks across Sam's teeth and plunges his tongue into his open mouth. Sam kisses back harder, his own tongue pushing against Gene's appreciatively and letting the arm at his waist guide him into Gene's lap. He passes his hands over Gene's shoulders and follows the collar of his shirt down until reaching Gene's chest. Clumsily, and not about to break the kiss, he tackles the buttons one at a time, desperation making it that much harder a job. His hips begin to shift unconsciously against the beginnings of Gene's erection.

 

Gene lets out a groan as Sam settles on his lap and hurriedly untucks the back of Sam’s shirt, gliding his hand up and across the sharp angles of Sam's spine, feeling him move and shift above him as he touches and strokes his smooth skin. Gene can feel his cock hardening and swelling in his trousers, and he draws back from Sam with a breathless gasp.

 

"Upstairs. Now." he growls, holding on to Sam and rising, dropping him gently on his feet and pushing past him, undoing his own shirt and belt as he walks quickly up the stairs. Sam follows, a soft needy noise in the back of his throat as he keeps at Gene’s heels, hands not able to stop touching anything within his reach. Almost falling down the stairs in his haste Sam shrugs off his leather jacket, tugging roughly at the back of Gene's shirt until it slips from his shoulders. By the time they reach the top of the stairs Sam is panting, hands down the back of Gene's pants and mouth running sloppy kisses all over his back.

 

As soon as he enters the bedroom, Gene turns on his heel. Sam is standing behind him, shirt hanging at an angle where he'd tried to struggle out of it on his way up the stairs, his normally neat hair beginning to stand up in messy damp spikes, his eyes wide and unfocused, almost panting with lust. With a deep growl Gene steps forward, pushing Sam gently into the wall and kissing him again, running a hand swiftly from waist to throat and ripping off his shirt, too impatient to undo the buttons, before attacking Sam's neck with his mouth, planting a line of firm kisses across the width of his collarbone, holding Sam effortlessly against the wall with one hand on his belly.

 

Sam's nails dig hard into Gene's shoulders, forcing Gene against and over him, his eyes squeezing shut as Gene's teeth scrape along his neck his head falling back, strangled moans for more rolling off his tongue. Gene can feel Sam trying to buck against the hand on his navel, and he spreads his fingers wide, the tips slipping teasingly under Sam’s waistband.

 

“Oh, God...” Sam whispers as Gene bites down on the soft muscle above his collarbone, followed with a whimper and sigh. Gene deliberately removes his hand from Sam's belly, dragging it slowly down his crotch, groping at his erection within his trousers, relishing the moans and sighs coming from above him. Gene dips his head lower, licking a line down the centre of Sam's chest and across to suck briefly on his nipples, still palming Sam's cock, rubbing heavily and insistently, enjoying the taste and feel of Sam coming undone, relishing being in total control of him.

 

Sam swallows, choking out a moan, thrusting his hips hard and fast into Gene’s palm. He begins to shiver, fingers threading through Gene's hair and tugging as he throws his head back knocking it against the wall, every inch of him writhing desperately against Gene. Gene growls against Sam's skin and raises his head, stepping back slightly to just look at Sam standing slumped against the wall. He leaves him there and sits on the edge of his bed, calmly removing his socks, balling them neatly and throwing them into the washing hamper, forcing himself to move slowly and methodically.

 

"Get your clothes off then Sammy". Gene stands and pulls down his trousers and pants, dropping them on the floor and stepping out of them, "and you can stay over there for now." He nods at the wall, and sits on the bed, shifting pillows until he’s propped languidly against the headboard, relaxed and comfortable, totally unashamed of his nudity. He knows that Sam didn't always react well to being ordered around, but Gene needs to be in control tonight, and is prepared to fight for it. Gene watches as Sam bites his lip in an effort to control himself, his fingers grasping ineffectually at the wall, trying to keep himself balanced. He looks across at Gene with darkened eyes, drinking in the sight of him naked. Sam growls, pushing himself off the wall with a quiet ”Fuck that” and jumping onto the bed, crawling up between Gene's legs and running a long stripe along the underside of Gene's cock with his tongue.

 

Gene hands dart down and grab Sam's slim wrists, hauling him bodily up and away, holding him tight. He glares at him before throwing him sideways off the bed onto the floor.

 

"You never fucking do as you're told do you Tyler? Get those stupidly tight trousers off and stay over there, until I'm ready for you." Gene settles back onto the bed, trying to ignore the cooling sensation of Sam's saliva drying on his cock. Breathing deeply he leans to the side and snags a half empty pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, lighting one with exaggerated calm. Sam drags himself to his feet, still panting hard. Taking a moment to lick his lips he pouts;

 

“But Gene...' His whine trails off as Gene glares at him, and he grudgingly backs into the wall, forcing his trousers and pants down over his hips and stepping out of them. They stare at each other across the darkened room and Gene smiles. He can see how difficult Sam is finding it not to touch himself, and he feels himself shiver slightly. Sam is gorgeous like this, needy and barely in control.

 

"Don't you dare touch yourself" he barks, slowly dragging on his cigarette, pursing his lips obscenely around the tip as he sucks hard, watching Sam's eyes widen. All too soon the cigarette is done, but Sam is still being a good boy and has barely moved from his place at the wall. Gene stubs it out in the ashtray, and turns his head to look again at Sam, raking his eyes up and down his body, before arching his back and stretching out onto the bed.

 

"Well Sammy, you wanted to suck my cock so much, you'd better get over here and do it" he says nonchalantly. Sam was back on the bed before Gene could finish the sentence swallowing Gene’s cock whole, the tip sliding to the back of his throat. Sam grabs onto Gene's hips hard enough to leave bruises and starts sucking hard on his full length, tongue flat and pressed hard to the underside, until suddenly dragging his head up till only the tip is in his mouth and swirling his tongue. Gene bucks his hips upwards, swearing loudly as Sam teases him with his tongue, feeling his breath stutter in his lungs as Sam sucks and licks at him. With a gasp he grabs Sam's head and pulls him off before he comes, and lets out a weak groan at the look of want and need on Sam's face. Softening he rubs his thumb gently across Sam's spit wet lips and into his hot wicked mouth.

 

"Fuck, Sam" he breathes, rising up to a sitting position and grabbing Sam under the armpits, manhandling him onto his back and running a hand heavily down his torso, skirting to the side of his cock, and rubbing all the way down his legs in slow strokes. Sam starts writhing, pushing himself against Gene’s hands, his long legs sliding around Gene's waist, crossing and pulling Gene further over him, his fingers mapping every inch of Gene’s skin that he can reach. Sam throws his head back and closes his eyes. Swallowing, his adam’s apple bobbing. He mumbles softly, “Gene...”

 

Gene swallows hard at Sam's soft plea, his hands roaming freely over Sam's body, taking his time, wanting to touch every inch of him, leave him breathless and trembling for him. Gently he disentangles himself from Sam's legs, and places a hand on his abdomen, pinning him to the bed.

 

"Stay still" he warns, returning to his explorations, bending his head to bite teasingly whenever Sam twitched in a particularly sensitive spot, licking and nipping at his warm skin, the taste of Sam warm salt on his tongue, listening to the exquisite moans and gasps tripping from Sam’s mouth. Gene traces a delicate circle around Sam's hip bone with his tongue, before licking a wide stripe the width of his body along his waist, knowing how much he was torturing Sam, every breathy moan and whimper of his name going straight to his cock. Heading slowly back towards the middle of Sam's body, he dips his tongue into Sam's belly button before swiftly dipping and taking the head of Sam's cock into his mouth, sucking hard on the sensitive tip, swiping his tongue across the slit, tasting the rich precome before stopping suddenly and sitting back on his heels, a smug grin on his face.

 

"Something you want Tyler?" he drawls languidly, watching Sam’s hips thrusting pitifully into midair before sagging against the bed.

 

“Oh God, please, don't stop!” Sam begs, his face flushed, eyes almost black, his body blanketed in a sheen of sweat. Gene removes his hand from Sam's stomach, watching him shiver and shake freely on the bed.

 

"I said Tyler...is there something you want?" He drops his voice, speaking low and languidly, knowing exactly what it does to Sam

 

"Or is it something you need? Ask me nicely and you might just get it" Sam bites his lip, giving a strangled, loud moan at the voice. Gripping and tugging at the blankets under him he whines and closes his eyes tight, gasping. His lower lip trembles as he chokes out the words;

 

“I need - I... I want. No, need YOU! On me, in me, over me, just YOU. For Christ sake...” He turns his head away, scrunching his face up, his leg jerking reflexively as it brushes against Gene's side, “Always needed you...” he mumbles into the pillow. With that Gene's shreds of self control completely shatter and he dives on Sam, lying full length on top of him, blanketing him with his weight and kissing him fiercely, tongue sliding into his mouth, swallowing every moan and sigh. Sam kisses Gene like his life depends on it, biting down hard on his lower lip and sucking on the tongue invading his mouth, his legs tangling themselves back around Gene's waist, arms looping over his shoulders and pressing into his back as he anchors himself to Gene's body. Whimpering, Sam rocks slowly into him, trembling and yelling into Gene's mouth as their cocks rub together.

 

Gene moans deep in his throat as he feels Sam's hard length rubbing against his own, and he tilts his hips forward to keep up the contact, running a hand down Sam's back and pulling him forwards, sitting up onto his knees, Sam hanging onto him. He moves his head to Sam's shoulder, breathing in his scent and kissing a line from arm to chin before moving back to his mouth and kissing him again, slow and messy, tasting every milimetre of his mouth, rocking Sam against him, feeling their cocks grinding together. Sam continues his tirade of moans and yells, his hips working like pistons as they move together, Sam suddenly pulls away from Gene's mouth, starting to convulse. Resting his sweaty head against Gene's chin he continues to rock, head lowered and eyes screwed shut,

 

“Oh God, no, stop, I'm gonna..... I'm... I'm gonna...” Sam's nails break the skin over Gene's shoulder blades as he tries to get a grip on himself, every muscle pulled taut as he tries to prolong release that he's been on the edge of since he got on the bed. Gene arches his hips away and pushes the flat of his hand against Sam's chest, pushing him bonelessly back onto the bed, breaking contact and stopping Sam's orgasm in its tracks. Rising to his feet on shaky legs, he places a swift kiss on Sam's forehead, and heads to his trousers, rooting in the pockets for the bottle of lube and returning to the bed. Trailing his fingers down Sam's side he leans in and whispers in Sam's ear "turn over" helping him roll onto his front and shifting his legs apart, before straddling his hips, and kissing a line down every ridge in Sam's spine, watching as he arches his back up like a cat at every angle that Gene's lips come into contact with. Shivering and eager, Sam pushes his hot sweaty body back into Gene, a soft needy noise passing from the back of his throat as his fingers clutch at the sheet beneath him.

 

Gene moves lower, lavishing attention on Sam, gripping his thighs and moving his legs further apart as he tongues the crease between Sam's buttocks, swirling his tongue and lapping gently at Sam's entrance before moving lower, languidly licking from his perineum to his balls, tasting the musky sweetness of his arousal. Gene reaches up and grabs a pillow, sliding it gently under Sam to tilt his hips upward. Squeezing lube onto his fingers, he parts Sam's buttocks with one hand, and slowly enters him with one finger, sliding in to the knuckle and out, before adding a second, beginning to open him up.

 

Sam's hips start rocking back, begging mutely for more, and Gene sees his fingers are tugging at the sheets hard enough that the fabric strains, and almost rips. Soft convulsive ripples flow down his body as Gene continues to take his time, sliding and twisting his fingers in and out in a maddening teasing rhythm, deliberately missing Sam's prostate as he finger fucks him gently, adding another finger to hear the sound that produces, working patiently to get Sam ready for him, adding more lube to keep his fingers warm supple and slippery as he buries them inside Sam over and over, before stilling, three fingers buried deep inside Sam, and hooks his middle finger, dragging it gently across Sam's prostate and out, listening to the moans and cries from the man beneath him. Swiftly he turns Sam back over, throwing the pillow onto the floor and moving between his legs, grabbing them and hooking them over his elbows, and placing the tip of his cock against Sam's entrance.

 

"Look at me Sam" he whispers. Sam, hair wet and face flushed a bright crimson flops back onto the covers, stretching out under Gene with a moan before tilting his face and looking at him. His eyes are black, lidded and swimming in and out of focus, lips bruised a berry red and in a soft pout, and he looks about ready to pass out. Gene almost loses it looking down at Sam, so needy and desperate for him, and he pushes forward into his grasping heat, letting out a drawn out moan as he sheathes himself fully inside Sam and stills, reveling in the hot tightness. Gene begins to move, pushing Sam's legs onto his shoulders and leaning forward to gain deeper entry, in Sam balls deep, and angling to the left as he moves back to graze the head of his cock against Sam's prostate with each thrust.

 

Sam throws his head back suddenly and yells something unintelligible, and Gene can feel the muscles in his legs tightening suddenly, not in pain but pleasure. Sam is crying out with every thrust, a trail of saliva slipping from the corner of his mouth and along his jaw. Gene feels Sam squeeze around his cock and he stutters out a gasp as he feels Sam clenching around him, almost throttling his cock. With a growl he reaches out and slips a hand around Sam's erection, cradling it in a loose fist and stroking in time with his long slow thrusts, staring down at Sam willing him to lose control.

 

“C-can't last... won't... fucking hell!” Sam’s voice is broken, thick with arousal, he blinks up at Gene a moment and suddenly his eyes widen. He turns his head away, exposing the length of his neck, his face screwed up as he clenches his teeth, breathing suddenly shallow and quickening with each second. His heels start to dig into Gene's body as he throws his head back and howls Gene's name to the ceiling, coming hard, hot white painting his stomach and body. Gene lets out a strangled cry as he feels Sam cum spurt hot across his fingers, and watches his body convulse under him. Sam's arse clenches viciously around him in rhythmic waves, milking his cock and with a moan he falls forward, bending Sam almost double as his hips speed up, driving again and again into Sam's blinding heat, his balls tightening as he comes, erupting deep inside Sam with a primal cry, muffled against Sam's chest, as he stutters and slows, coming to a halt, sliding out of Sam and rolling to the side with an exhausted moan.

 

Still trembling Sam clings to Gene as if needing an anchor, burying his head into the hollow of his neck as he makes soft, unsteady noises. He hooks his legs over Gene's and presses flush against his side. Gene settles himself and brings an arm around Sam holding him against him and placing a soft kiss in his hair, rubbing his back gently and reassuringly, dying for a fag but willing to wait, knowing it takes Sam a while to come back to him, luxuriating in the warmth of the man next to him, sated and content. Sam tilts his head up to kiss Gene softly on the mouth, lightly, a sharp contrast to the fierceness of the night's previous kisses, his muscles relaxing as he lies beside Gene, half on top of him. His breathing slows as well, and it's not long before he has his head against Gene's neck, staring pensively at the ceiling.

 

“You’ll never look at this bed in the same way again.” Sam says in a serious tone, but Gene can feel him grinning cheekily against his jaw.

 

"It's a long time since this bed has seen action like that Sammy boy" Gene whispers, a smile in his voice. "Have to change the bloody sheets before the missus gets back n'all. Now you gonna let me have my post shag fag or what?" He shifts his shoulders meaningfully, not really caring if Sam makes him stay lying there, but pretending anyway.

 

“Do I really have to move?” His hand slides around across Gene's chest suddenly, “The Missus can have all the sheets in the world if I can have the bloke who sleeps in them. Honest.” Gene's head flops backwards onto the pillow, and he tightens his grip on Sam, pulling him closer.

 

"You've got me Sam. Honest." he says quickly, before sliding his arm out from under Sam and reaching for his cigarettes, sliding one out of the packet. He lights it and then gathers Sam back up, pulling him against his side, and tilting his head to the ceiling, smoking silently. Sam reaches down and pulls the blanket over them, leaning against Gene.

 

“You're a bad bloody influence, that's what you are. I've half a mind to complain you never offered me one.” Sam plucks the cigarette from Gene’s mouth, fingers lingering on his lips a moment. He takes a long drag, breathing out slowly.

 

“So, what's the occasion, then? I never asked why it was here and not my flat.”

 

“Oh Sam" Gene closes his eyes with a weak groan "why is it always questions with you. Can't you just be content for once?" He almost snatches the cigarette back from Sam and finishes it in two long drags, leaning over to stub it in the ashtray Sam frowns and, leaning up to kiss Gene's cheek, slides back against him,

 

“Because I'm a nosey twat?” He shrugs once, “And I want to know. I never thought you'd take me home, to be honest.” Gene chuckles affectionately.

 

"Nosey twat's right" he mutters, eyes sliding away from Sam's to stare at the ceiling, brow furrowing as he ponders what to say. He lets out a long breath, almost a sigh "I'm far too knackered for talking about my feelings like a sodding nancy, Sam. But" he says his voice softening "there are lots of reasons." Sam looks at Gene, suddenly serious, his arms folded.

 

“This isn't anything to do with Harry is it?” Gene’s head snaps back and he glares at Sam.

 

“I know, I know, but if I didn't ask any questions I'd be a piss-poor D.I. And anyway, this one's important. Probably the most important.” Gene swipes a hand across his face, trying not to get irritated.

 

"Bloody hell Sam! It's three o'clock in the morning, I've been up for twenty hours, I've shot my mentor and just shagged a bloke in my marital bed. Can you please give me a fucking break? Just stop that annoying brain of yours for once and let me be." It was meant to be a warning, but it came out as more of plea. Sam looks Gene up and down for a moment before twisting round and putting his arms round him. He leans against him and takes a long breath.

 

“I love you.” Sam says hesitantly.

 

"I know Sam." Gene replies, leaning into the embrace before pulling back to look Sam in the eye. "You're not going to let this drop are you?" he asks, seeing the determination on Sam's face. He gently pushes Sam away with huff and gets to his feet, walking across the room and grabbing his robe from the back of the door.

 

"Fine, we'll do it now. But I'm not having this conversation without whisky." He shrugs on his robe and exits the bedroom, making his way back downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written as an RP with Terraswrath
> 
> First posted to hans_fics on LJ on 17.10.2008
> 
> Concrit and comments always welcome


	3. Chapter 3

Grinding his teeth in sudden frustration Sam tosses the covers over, pulling on his trousers and shirt before making his way downstairs like a man possessed, leaving the shirt unbuttoned. Striding over to Gene he stops in front of him and jabs him in the shoulder. “Yeah, see, that's why I want to know if it's about bloody Harry. Always 'I know, Sam' ain't it?” He picks up the whisky glass Gene poured first, taking a sip.

 

 

Gene pours a second glass, not turning to look at Sam, his back straight and angry, before making his way back over to his chair in the corner. Placing the whisky on the table he looks across at Sam.

 

"Sit down Sam." he orders "I can't have you flitting about the room. And stop being so bloody emotional about everything. Just calm down." He takes a long sip of whisky before continuing "So this is it Sam. You've got me here willing to talk. What exactly do you want to know?"

 

Dropping back into the same seat as he was in before he sighs heavily, running his free hand through his hair.

 

“Everything. What the fuck is going on with the Missus, Harry... us. She's in and out the house like a bloody yo-yo, Harry apparently has some redeeming quality that I can't see and we're dancing circles round the both of them.”

 

 

Gene looks pained for a moment trying to decipher Sam's ramble. "Alright one question at a time ok?" He stops and takes another long drink, casting a glance up to his wedding photo on the mantle. "Harry introduced me to Margie" he says with a sad smile "He never judged me Sam. Knew what I was, well he worked it out after I made a drunken pass at him one night." Gene shrugs "he was good to me. The father I never had. But he didn't treat me bad because of it, and he taught me how to be a good cop, and taught me that some things are better kept secret. I was lucky Sam, he could've shopped me for being queer, had me kicked off the force, but he didn't. He introduced me to Margie and told me to get hitched quick. So I did." Gene pauses to light a cigarette, studying the end in the dim light. "And I know he went bad Sam, but what you saw today, that wasn't the Harry I knew, that wasn't the Harry that looked after me when I was starting out, nothing more than a cocky kid. He showed me how to be strong, how to behave how to BE. I owe him so much Sam. You have to see that?"

 

Gene sees Sam’s face crease into a frown as he sips at the whisky

 

“I see that. I also see you don't realise how far you've come. Gene, you're no kid anymore and Harry's been treating you like one.” Taking a moment to study his drink he continues, “He told me not to tell you about the cancer. God, do you know how torn apart I was inside, Gene? He didn't tell you and I so desperately wanted you to know, you had a right to know. I thought he was going to, but the minute he brought it up in CID... I was convinced he was going to break you with that.”

 

Gene is suddenly angry. "Sam shut-up. Don't you think what happened today is bad enough without you adding to it? I'm telling you how it is; I don't need you trying to change my mind because it won't bloody work. There's too much history there, too much respect, and you'll just have to accept that." He slams the rest of his drink and gets up, holding his hand out for Sam's empty glass as he passes, before refilling both glasses and handing Sam his back, as he returns to his seat, placing the bottle of whisky on the floor between them.

 

“I'm not trying to change your mind, for fuck's sake. I'm trying to make YOU see why I think he's...” Trailing off he lets the anger drain away and takes a drink “... why I think the way I do.” Looking back at Gene he clears his throat, 'So come on then. Us.'

 

Gene looks pained for a second "what about us?" he replies tiredly "what do you want me to say?" Sighing heavily, Sam takes another sip, “You know the score, Gene. You're in charge of where this goes. I don't think it's too much to ask where right now?” Gene tries to control the anger in his voice as he answers

 

"I'm not in charge of anything Sam. And I honestly don't know what you want from me. Where do you think we can go? You want me to leave Margie for you? Is that it?" Bowing his head Sam runs another hand through his hair, moving back to rub his neck,

 

“You wouldn't? We've just shagged in her bed, Gene. In her house. And you're not kicking me out. Something's changed since two night's ago.” He looks up for a moment, staring down Gene's glare, “And why you always dance around this subject when I bring it up.”

 

"Everything seems to be so bloody simple in your world Sam. But it's not. I can't just up and leave my wife of fifteen years and walk off into the sunset with your skinny arse. You act as though being queer isn't even a bloody issue, when we could both lose our jobs if this came out. I'm just trying to protect us and you act like I don't give a shit. And that fucking hurts Sam."

 

Suddenly Sam sinks back, pinching the bridge of his nose,

 

“I'm sorry. Look - it's - in Hyde it was... a bit different. That's all. And sometimes it's like you don't care, and I need something a bit more solid than a few shags a week. Mind-blowing shags, yeah, but then you just up and leave. Can you blame me for thinking I'm just your bloody rentboy?”

 

Gene sighs, and with an effort of will gets up and crosses to the sofa, sitting next to Sam. "I'll probably never be able to be the person you want me to be Sam, I'm not good with words and this is bloody hard for me." He stops and puts his arm around Sam's shoulder pulling him in "and I've never had this" he gestured to the two of them "never even dared to hope I could have something like this. But I'm still me, and I can't turn that off."

 

“I don't want you to say it all the time. Hell, I wouldn't care if you'd go for weeks without. I just want you to say it, to yourself as well as to me. You've definitely not said it out loud and I'm no mind reader, Gene.” Staring intently at the glass now, his gaze fierce, “And I want you to say it because damnit you ARE the person I want you to be. Wouldn't let you bugger me senseless if you weren't.” And, almost furiously, he knocks back the whiskey and sets it on the coffee table.

 

Gene sighs and flops his head back onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling, not looking across at Sam sitting hunched over next to him. He purses his lips contemplatively, and then quickly stands and starts to pace the room, sweeping his gaze over the knick knacks and pictures, all the detritus of his marriage. He stops and looks across at Sam, still staring at the floor. "Look at me Sam." He says quietly.

 

Sam does, raising his head slowly, his grip on the glass visibly tightening. He still stays slumped against the couch as he looks over at Gene, a confused look on his face. For a moment his eyes stray across to the contents of the room devoted to the missus before blinking and flickering back. Gene crosses the room to Sam and stands in front of him, just looking down at him. His hand comes up, almost unconsciously and he cradles Sam's face, stroking a thumb down his cheek with infinite care and tenderness.

 

"Whatever happened to actions speaking louder than words Sammy?" he smiles, and then grimaces "although my actions haven't been all too great either have they?" He sighs again, and leans in, kissing Sam on the forehead before dropping down heavily into the seat next to him. He rests his elbows on his knees and looks at the floor, his voice quiet and hesitant. "You don't know how much you're asking of me Sammy. And right now, here, it's too much. But" he continues before Sam can speak "that doesn't mean I don't, or I never will. But that's all I can say."

 

Sam is quiet for a while, slowly moving his hand over Gene's, fingers interlocking,

 

“You do know, though, why I'm so desperate to hear it, right? It's not like I'm being some prick going out of my way to mess with you. And I'm being serious, Gene, maybe one day it'll be a case of you saying it or I'll walk, but for now,” Sam takes a moment to lean against him “Maybe I could live with that.”

 

Gene just nods, and winds his arm around Sam, pulling him into him and holding tight. He squints at the clock on the mantelpiece.

 

"You won't get me to talk like this very often Sam" he says pensively, and then swallows audibly "so if there's anything else you've a burning desire to talk about, you'd better ask now." Sam huffs, and pouts a little,

 

“Don't you have anything to ask? I'm not a bloody open book myself; you've said plenty of times.” Gene throws his hands up in despair "Are you ever bloody happy Sam? You talk a mile a minute every waking hour, you're bound to tell me everything about yourself sooner or later, I'm trying to give you what you want, be all girly and talk about my feelings, but it's not enough is it? Somehow it always comes back to you doesn't it. Sometimes you're a selfish childish prick Tyler." Irritated, Gene pushes Sam away and reaches for his whisky. Sam frowns and grabs his arm before Gene can reach it, pulling a little,

 

“No it's bloody not. I'm asking for YOUR sake, Gene, because half the time your pride gets in the way with what you really want to say.” Gene sneers and shakes Sam off, getting swiftly to his feet, grabbing the whisky and pointedly sitting down in his own chair again, away from Sam. "Oh I'm so glad Mr. Stick up his jacksie wants to help poor old me and my cretinous ways. You can add pompous arse to that list n'all Sam. I managed without your bleeding heart sympathy for forty years, I don't need to be mollycoddled by a jumped up little Hyde wanker like you." Gene is shouting by the end of the tirade, pointing his glass at Sam.

 

Sam stares at him a moment before saying loudly, “Gene, what the hell? I ask you if you've got anything to say about ME and suddenly I want to fix you? For Christ’s sake, if I couldn't put up with you I wouldn't even be here, trust me on that one. I'm not mollycoddling you; I'm fucking worried about you!” Suddenly he stands and walks over, sitting on the edge of the table so that they're more or less facing each other, knees sliding together. He says suddenly quiet, “I'm worried, alright? Worried that I'm doing something wrong, which I constantly seem to be, and you won't tell me about it until you see fit to turn your double life back to single. Yeah, Gene, I'm a "jumped-up little Hyde wanker", and I always will be. Works both ways, yeah?”

 

"I never asked you to fucking worry about me Sam." Gene shouts "and it's not my bloody fault that your picky pain brain over analyses and over thinks every single little thing that goes on. You push and you push me Sam into places I don't want to be and then you throw a tantrum when I tell you I don't want to be there. You said you wanted to be with ME Sam; well this is me, for better or bloody worse.

 

“I'M the one throwing the tantrum? Look, Gene, I'm not trying to push you into a corner. If you don't have anything to ask me, then fine, you don't.” Standing up abruptly he snatches Gene's whisky glass from his hands and - refusing to look at him - turns and walks into the kitchen, “Go get some sleep. And turn off your damn alarm; you're not going in tomorrow. You look like shit.”

 

 

Gene sits in the darkened lounge, listening to Sam banging about in the kitchen before rising to his feet and following him. He stands in the doorway quietly, waiting for Sam to notice him. Sam has his back to him for a long while, washing the glasses repeatedly like a man possessed before angrily thrusting them back in the water and repeating. His movements become slower and calmer until he turns, rubbing his hands on a tea-towel and staring back at Gene. Gene lights a cigarette and looks steadily across at Sam.

 

“Something Margie taught me a long time ago." he watches Sam stiffen at the sound of his wife's name. "Never go to bed angry. And not only cos it means you won't get breakfast made for you in the morning." Gene walks into the kitchen and sits at the table, flicking ash in the direction of the ashtray.

 

"I don't really know what to say. It seems like we're always going to be like this Sammy, arguing till we're blue in the face, cos we're a pair of stubborn twats. So how about a compromise. I'll let you fret and worry over me and us, and whether the Russians are gonna blow us up, and I'll take an interest in your poncey Hyde ways, and try and yer know talk to you. How does that sound?" Sam blinks for a second and slowly pushes off the counter, walking over to Gene and, sliding his hands through his hair, kisses him hard. He lingers a moment longer than normal and slowly pulls away, just enough to be able to talk. Still with his eyes closed he says,

 

“I know you, Gene. No matter what you say I know how much you enjoy me fretting, wanting to make sure you're happy and comfortable and at peace with yourself. Some smarmy fuck has to do it.” He kisses him again before standing back up from his bent position, this time leaning against the table. “And I told you, get to sodding bed. You really do look like shit.”

 

Gene leans in and kisses Sam before playfully tapping him on the arse. "You gonna act like my wife Sam, I'll treat you like her n'all. Now come on, you look knackered and you'll get a decent night's sleep in my bed." He kisses Sam again and leaves the kitchen making his way slowly up the stairs, hoping that Sam follows him.

 

Sam doesn’t appear until Gene is undressed and in bed He lingers for a moment before walking in, tugging off his shirt and pants again. “Not your wife. For starters, she couldn't give you as good a shag as I do,” Sliding into bed he turns away from Gene but takes his arm and pulls him over until he’s pressed up against his back. Sam cants his hips back and whispers, “For another she'd probably faint at the mention of anal.”

 

Gene snorts and wraps himself further around Sam's body, dropping his mouth to Sam's ear "You've a filthy mind Sam Tyler. Now shut up and let me get some sleep you daft ponce, and I won't make you wash my undies in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written as an RP with Terraswrath
> 
> First posted to hans_fics on LJ on 17.12.2008
> 
> Comments and concrit always welcome

**Author's Note:**

> Written as an RP with my friend terraswrath. 
> 
> First posted at hans_fics on LJ - 06.10.2008
> 
> comments and criticism always welcome


End file.
